


warm baths and a gentle dawn

by glowingjellyfishtreelights



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen, PURELY PLATONIC, bathing together, set in kind of an au but that's not important, this is basically just self-indulgent comfort okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-24 20:17:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20913494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowingjellyfishtreelights/pseuds/glowingjellyfishtreelights
Summary: They have scars, and they hurt, and they bleed. But the universe is so vast, and there are always monsters to beat, people to help, new worlds to explore, and at the end of it all, there’s a home, and a warm bath, and the two people he trusts more than anyone else to keep him from sinking.Together, battered, tired, recovering from a long and sleepless night, they can watch the dawn break.





	warm baths and a gentle dawn

It’s been a horrible, nasty, _ long _night, when the three of them tumble through their front door in the wee hours of the morning.

Riku’s the first to get free, sodden boots and muddy jacket falling to the ground with a wet _ slap _. He’s limping as he goes slipping past the sluggish tangle that’s Sora and Kairi, staggering deeper into the house. They let him go without protest- they know where he’s going, because it’s become a sort of unspoken routine at this point, for these worst of the worst nights.

Even still, Sora takes a moment to just lay on the floor, contemplating the merits of just… melting here. Entering a small coma to escape from the bright, stabbing pain in his legs. Exhaustion drags heavy at his bones, and the task of shucking his dirty, battle-grimed clothes and getting clean seems impossibly huge, even with the lure of the heat starting to spill out of the door Riku left cracked.

But Sora doesn’t back down from seemingly impossible tasks, never could or he would have never made it this long, so as Kairi finally manages to unravel the last of her laces with clumsy fingers, dropping her shoes in a discordant set of _ thumps _, he paws at his jacket and cringes at the protest his arms send up. The potions have done their work, healed his wounds, but he can still feel the ghost of greedy claws catching against his bones.

Neoshadows are horrid, predatory beings, and the fog of hungry malice they seep likes to fester in the blows they deal, chewing its way down to marrow. 

It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before, time over and over again. That doesn’t mean it’s gotten much easier.

Kairi staggers to her feet, and almost falls right back on top of Sora before she catches herself. She makes an inarticulate noise, half pain, half apology, and Sora makes one rooted in exhaustion right back at her in solidarity, gingerly peeling off his shoes and socks and chucking them half-heartedly across the room.

“C’mon,” Kairi says tiredly, leaning against the doorframe. “Big tub. Lotsa hot water.”

And that’s really one of the most tempting things in the world right now, second to only sleep, so Sora gets his feet underneath him and squints wavering vision into the light.

They lean on each other as they trudge towards wisping steam and heavy warm air- towards the promise of cleanliness and warmth.

It’s a lot of work. But they make it, just like they always have before.

The huge basin of a tub they joint-bought this house almost solely for is already full, the air deliciously thick and warm and humid. Riku’s up to his shoulders in the cabinets, already stripped down and hair wet, grime from their battle still painting his body. Sora splits from Kairi, paws for the wall, and finds the shower switch- and yelps as icy water rains down, soaking him even further.

Riku huffs at him, corner of his mouth kicking up, as Sora scrambles to turn the water back off but just ends up overshooting and turning it to warmth. He withdraws from the cabinets with an armful of soap and washcloths, and goes to his own shower.

Sora just focuses on working his way free from his clothes- the water’s running and warm, and if he fought the shower on this, he’s pretty sure he’d lose. Soaked fabric dropped to the side, he closes his eyes, sinking down, blissfully grateful that they finally remembered to put stools in the room. He’s done standing for the day, thanks. His legs are driftwood and jellyfish tentacles, and the rest of his body is heavy ocean stone. He’s pushed too hard, today, but he doesn’t regret it. There’s a world out there that still exists, still shines bright in the sky, because of the way he broke himself for it this night.

The water carves little rivulets along his arms; snaking trails through crusting blood and mud, the water swirling down the drain at his feet murky. Sora still has a washcloth and a half-bar of soap from last time nestled in a dry corner, and he drags them out, the sudden urge to scrape the night’s struggle from his skin stronger than the one that wants him to simply fall asleep under the warm fall of water.

He’s down to just a sliver of soap and the washrag will never be the same by the time he’s certain he’s got the most of it off, skin tingling from scrubbing. There’s a bit of invigoration there, a tiny return of a spark of energy, in the act of getting clean, and this time when he goes to turn off the shower he gets it right the first time. 

He’s the first one to finish, surprisingly, but not by much- one more shower cuts off, then the other, as Sora walks on his unsteady driftwood legs to the lip of the bath and finally, blissfully, lets himself melt into the beckoning temptation.

The hot water is painfully soothing to his ankles and knees- Sora knows he’s made a wreck of them, like he knows Kairi’s left shoulder has faltering moments of weakness and pain, because heartless do not make their wounds clean, like he knows Riku’s mangled arm has to be feeling like it’s cored with magma, his bum leg probably not much better by the way he half-drags it behind him as he sinks into the massive basin of steaming water. It’s just what happens, when you’re fourteen-and-fifteen-and-sixteen and the only person that can save the world- save multiple worlds, because teenagers with the power to save the world are rare and needed in so many places. It’s what happens, when a blade appears in your hands and creatures of darkness creel in the shadows, hunting your heart, and you have to learn combat through trial and error and desperate instinct, heeding the quiet whispers of your weapon in your head unthinkingly until the battle is won and you realize your blade is singing victory into your mind.

Kairi finally makes her way over to join them, sinks down to her chin with an exhausted, nonsense hum, and Sora splits a part of himself to keeping an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t fall asleep and slip under. They all might, actually, and how would that be, all three keybearers known to all the worlds all going out at the same time by drowning in a bathtub made for giants?

Riku’s eyes stare unfocused at the light, gauzy curtains they’ve strung over the windows. Outside, the sun is rising- a faint trickle of hazy pale light, filtering just faintly through, tinting the fabric. He’s relaxed in a way that’s so rare, these days- always was, really, because Riku has only recently become acquaintances with the feeling of contentment, of being happy with what he has. 

Sora didn’t realize it, or know how to realize it, really, just how horribly trapped and confined Riku felt on the Islands. Didn’t know until he came back, himself, and found himself trying to fit back into a life he didn’t know how to live anymore- _ couldn’t _ live anymore, found all the wrong edges rubbing himself raw and longing to go racing out and discovering something new. Found that his combat-sharp shapes cut the people he’d left behind and was horrified, because he couldn’t dull that part of him- no, that would be unthinkable. 

Sora changed, but the Islands did not. And then came the day he looked up, saw himself, so out of place; saw Kairi, jumping at shadows and pacing restless circles around the boundaries of their little world of sand and sea; saw Riku, back to straining against the bars of his cage and so deeply unhappy, but staying for them.

The Islands were a safe haven, but they went and delved into the dark; they’ve outgrown the need for such a massive haven, for staying within its bounds, now that they can survive outside of it. What they have now- what they’ve carved out, on their own, is something Sora loves.

They have scars, and they hurt, and they bleed. But the universe is so _ vast _, and there are always monsters to beat, people to help, new worlds to explore, and at the end of it all, there’s a home, and a warm bath, and the two people he trusts more than anyone else to keep him from sinking.

Together, battered, tired, recovering from a long and sleepless night, they can watch the dawn break.

**Author's Note:**

> I am tired and sore and want a hot bath so I wrote the destiny trio being tired and sore and taking a hot bath
> 
> I have so long discarded kingdom hearts canon to worldbuild on my own I barely remember what happened with some of the games. most of my inspiration springs from kh1. thus this particular au doesn't have nobodies, keyblade masters aren't titles you have to pass a test for, and keyblades are probably sentient. sora riku and kairi are literally the only keyblade masters running around and it's been possibly centuries since the last ones. 
> 
> also I finished writing this like 10 minutes ago and I've read over it only like twice. I don't know why the purely platonic tag is in all caps but I can't get it to turn lowercase so I guess I'm stuck with it? I probably shouldn't put this up but I'm at that fun stage of sleep deprivation where I act on my impulses under the impression that better-rested jelly will thank me for it later. this has yet to ever prove true.


End file.
